


In The Heat of the Night

by BatchSan



Category: The Rocky Horror Picture Show: Let's Do The Time Warp Again (2016)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/pseuds/BatchSan
Summary: Janet still thinks about Frank.





	In The Heat of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts: _Masturbation_ / _Silk Sheets_ / _F/F featuring a trans woman_
> 
> Hey, guess who hasn’t been able to stop thinking about this pairing??? @.@ (Goddamn, Laverne Cox, you goddess. And Victoria Justice, you cutie. Unf.)

It’s hot outside, the bedroom window cracked open to let in the bare whispers of a breeze. Janet feels hotter still, despite a shower. It’s the silk sheets she received as a wedding present. They were silver with the blanket bearing a simple embroidering along the hem. The slip of silk against her barely clad body ignited fires that were only fanned by the heat of the night. Brad had fallen asleep earlier downstairs on the couch with ice cream still thick on his lips. Janet, the dutiful wife, had cleaned it up and gone to take a shower without so much as an effort at waking him up. 

Things were different now, had been ever since that rainy night when they had gotten lost. Janet felt like a different woman now, a new one. She had wet her whistle on forbidden fruits and while she smiled now, relieved it was over, her body craved that fruit still. Comparing what she’d experienced that night at the castle to Brad’s mediocre attempts at sex was like comparing a Mustang GT to a Volkswagen Beetle. Yes, they satisfied the same need—driving—but goddamn, it was so much more fun in a GT. Janet knew that she couldn’t just get up and leave to sate her real hunger the way she would have liked, not now that she was married, and not even back before they had officially tied the knot. 

After their experiences at the castle, Brad and Janet were bound together on a very cosmic level. Only a handful of people would believe their story and one had been Dr. Scott and another was the odd investigator of their case. The latter had an oddly knowing smile, as if he’d been there to see it all too. Perhaps he was just astute and able to fit the clues left behind with their statements. Either way, it was too much of a burden of a story to try and convince others that were never there to understand what they had seen and experienced. It was easier to stay together because they had survived together. Janet suspected it was a flimsy reason for why they stayed together, but it was all she afforded herself to believe.

She was still hot but the term that came to her mind as she stared up at the dark ceiling was _’in heat’_. Beneath the thin layer of sweat forming along her skin despite the shower, Janet felt another heat. It pulsed at her pressure points, crawled along the flesh covering her most sensitive parts, and reverberated along every movement her body made against the silk sheets beneath her. Janet needed release, the proper kind. The kind she had felt back in the castle.

Her thoughts whirled back to that one moment when she had laid uneasily and uncertainly in a canopy bed, unaware of where Brad was at nor where her clothes were at. Already that small bit of memory brought a familiar flush to her skin, the physical heat forgotten in favor of the throb of desire between her legs. She remembered feeling weary despite the oddity of her surroundings, sleep crooning to her. Then the door opened, letting in whom she believed to be Brad. It had to be him, whom else would come into her room in the middle of the night? In the gloom, Janet convinced herself that it was him, feeling a warm tingle in her chest at the possibly salacious implication of their being alone like this before their wedding night.

It hadn’t been Brad, however. It had been someone better.

Janet’s hand found purchase between her legs, panties hastily shoved down her thighs and kicked to the floor. This part of the memory was what always brought her so close to the edge before she even initiated any kind of physical pleasure to herself. She was quickly becoming wet as she remembered the look of Dr. Frank N Furter’s smile as she gloated over her. So self-assured that what she was doing was not only the right thing, but the best thing Janet was ever going to experience. She hadn’t been wrong, heaven no. Even though Janet had been frighten at first, her curiosity got the best of her, overriding her fear and embarrassment at never being touched before. 

Frank had been surprisingly gentle despite her obvious cockiness. She somehow knew all the right ways to ease Janet into the joys of carnal pleasure. Her kisses were warm yet hungry. Her touches were soft yet persistent. And when mouth met the virgin flower between Janet’s thighs, Janet knew she’d never ride down from the high. It was as much the actions Frank were doing to her as it was the simple fact that it _was_ Frank. She made Janet feel aroused beyond her comprehension, desperate for her.

Perhaps that’s why Frank had had so many lovers in the castle that night. She was a queen of her abilities and everyone knew it; hungered for it. She was brilliant with her tongue and smart with her actions, it was something you had to see to truly appreciate. Janet had seen it, over and over that night. Sometimes with horror, but mostly, with a keening pressure goading her loins that refused to quit, even now. 

Janet’s fingers were no match for the memory of Frank between her legs, coaxing her over the edge over and over, but they helped. They helped a great deal. In the heat, against her martial silk sheets, with the ghostly memories of a woman who was both crazed and a genius (and dead, the faint reminder screamed), Janet cried out, her body convulsing in a way Brad could never even dream to match. Panting into the suffocating night, Janet felt a wave of contentment wash over her. Usually, she would clean up evidence of her wandering fingers against her own body but tonight she let her throbbing still sticky body simply lull her to sleep. 

Frank may have been gone, the ordeal in the castle long over, but Janet would often think of Dr. Furter for the rest of her life.


End file.
